


dreamers

by starblessed



Category: The Greatest Showman (2017)
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Dreams, F/M, Protective Siblings, not those kinds of dreams, w.d. is just doing his best
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-21 11:33:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13739997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starblessed/pseuds/starblessed
Summary: Anne is desperate to let go of Phillip Carlyle.Phillip Carlyle refuses to let go of her.





	dreamers

**Author's Note:**

> for as much as this story is about phillip, he's hardly actually in it lol

There are nights when she dreams about him, and these nights are the worst, because they leave her choked with guilt even as her half-awake mind still reels.

She can still feel the burn of his hands against her skin; the hunger of his lips pressed to hers, devouring anything they can touch. She can lose herself in the memories, the fantasies, and for a moment it is almost as good as the real thing.

The real thing that she isn’t allowed, she reminds herself. The real thing that she can never have.

“You look like a mess,” W.D. remarks the next day, tugging a flyaway curl from her messy bun. Anne grunts and begins working at her hair, ready to undo it and start all over again. She saw herself in the mirror this morning, and that was all the incentive she needed to look as little as possible. She can only handle so many eye bags before breakfast, or else she starts feeling like a train’s luggage compartment.

“Thanks,” she answers her brother dryly. “You’re a real spring chicken too.”

“Least I don’t look like I’ve got one foot outta the grave.” W.D. crosses his arms. When Anne turns away from him, he huffs. “You haven’t been sleeping?”

She focuses on twisting the protective tape around her wrists, not paying attention to anything — or anyone — else. “I’ve been fine.”

“We sleep in the same room. I hear you.”

“So you _hear_ me sleeping just fine.”

“I heard you up at five this morning, and not for any good reason.” W.D. takes a step closer. Anne crosses to the other side of a post and begins unwinding rope from the nearest hook, to preemptively ward him off from coming closer. If she doesn’t like what someone’s saying, her go-to escape is the air. Unfortunately, her brother’s the only one who can follow her.

W.D. is quiet for a moment. Anne knows better than to think he’s dropped the topic.

Finally, he asks, “Is it him again?”

She doesn’t flinch. “Don’t know who you mean.”

“You’re dreaming about Carlyle.”

Anne doesn’t answer. There’s nothing to say. Her mind is immediately consumed with thoughts of the night before — the awful fantasies that ran through her head, torturing her. It had been a peaceful, sweet dream: she and Phillip, sharing a dinner at a fancy restaurant, sitting close with their hands laced together over the creamy tablecloth. There had been nothing impure about the dream, nothing shocking — unless you counted two white and black hands, interlaced in public.

That’s the most unrealistic thing about every one of Anne’s dreams.

She closes her eyes, and tries to force the memory out. She wants to burn it. She wishes she could see it crispen at the edges, curling and withering away, until there is nothing but ashes left to haunt her. She wishes she could free herself of the dream of Phillip Carlyle — of all the hopes, fantasies, and wishes that come with him.

Life is not that simple. Dreams are not so easy to escape.

She remembers the vision of Phillip, in a restaurant full of people, lifting her hand to his lips. The kiss on her knuckles still burns. She hastily twists it in rope to hide it away, as if her brother could possibly see her shame branded on her skin.

“You can’t tear yourself up over him, Anne,” W.D. finally murmurs. “You’ve got to forget him.”

Anne knows that. She tries. She wants to.

Still, there is some awful part deep inside of her that is clinging to Phillip Carlyle with everything that she’s got, and she’s not sure she’ll be able to let that part of her go.


End file.
